Thankfully, Lily had been well protected. My parents had sent her to stay with relatives. She was safe, but not happy. Daniel, that heartless man, hadn’t visited her once—as if he never even had a daughter.
On the other side, however, was pure celebration.
To welcome Ethan home from the hospital, Margaret bought him a suburban school district house and even prepared $380,000 in cash, stacked from the door to the living room.
“Come, sweetheart, walk across it! Every step means you’ll rise higher and higher.”
Inside Ethan’s body, I let them drag me forward, stepping on thick stacks of bills. It was like walking on clouds.
I remembered the year I gave birth to Lily—Margaret hadn’t given a single penny, hadn’t even acknowledged her. When friends and family suggested she give something symbolic for good luck, she refused, sitting back like an unbothered queen.
After that, I gave up my career to become a housewife, burying my education while raising our daughter by day and drafting business strategies for Daniel at night. Step by step, I helped him climb, until he built his fortune on my research and patents.
Never did I expect such a day—